


The Kids Are Alright

by Arcanium



Category: The Thundermans
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff, Jealous!Max, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcanium/pseuds/Arcanium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe in which the Thundermans are poor.<br/>Max is selling pot to anonymously help the family.<br/>And his best friend Oyster is causing him to question his sexuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Max + Oyster = ?

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a test chapter to see how people take to this idea. I am horrible at writing summaries so I apologize. The total amount of comments and kudos depends on if I go further, so don't be afraid to say something. I love hearing from you.
> 
> CANON DIVERGENT: The Thundermans have no superpowers. I have also changed the ages of the kids. Max and Phoebe are 17, Billy is 15, and Nora is 14.

**Max**

 

Max loved school. Okay, let's rephrase that: Max loved school because it was the one place that he could be himself. Being himself included smoking pot in the bathroom with his band and then picking on the entire student body that he couldn't give two fucks about. What could be say? Maximus Octavious Thunderman was a total bad boy.

 

"C'mon dude, just give me some," Gideon, a boy in the band whined, reaching for the joint Max held between his fingers just out of reach.

 

"Hm. I'm gonna go with no," Max said with a smirk, taking a big hit for himself and blowing it in Gideon's face. Oyster cracked up obviously stoned out of his mind. "Give me $20 and then we'll talk."

 

Gideon's face fell as he murmured, "But Oyster never pays!"

 

Max looked over to Oyster as they shared a smirk. "Trust me... Oyster pays."

 

"Fine." He dug into his pocket and pulled out twenty bucks. Max took the money eagerly and gave him a joint from inside his special black box. Truth be told, Max never really liked Gideon. He was just someone who happened to be in his band because nobody better was ever there to take his place.

 

"Max," Oyster whispered, nodding towards the stall at the end. Max grinned and eyed Oyster appreciatively.

 

"Get the fuck out Gideon."

 

"What? Why? Weren't we gonna...You know, be on the pot?" Max glared at Gideon, obviously in no mood for his company. "Fine. I'm gone."

 

"Thought he'd never leave," Oyster groaned as soon as the door closed.

 

"Me either." Max closed a fist around the front of Oyster's shirt and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. He never felt more like a villain than when he was in lustful sin with Oyster. He palmed the front of his jeans, pushing him into the wall. "Now I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. Don't you just hate censors? It’s like were on a fucking family program." Max ripped Oyster out of his shirt and bit into his neck.

 

"Fuck!" He moaned. "The stall." He said, playing with Max's hair. "Now."

 

Max was just about to comply when he heard a voice from outside, a voice he would never hear again if he had the choice. "Max? Maximus Octavious Thunderman, get your perverted ass out of the bathroom. Now!"

 

Fucking Phoebe!

 

"Busy!"

 

She replied, a little too loudly for his taste, "You can fuck Oyster later!"

 

Max cringed. He hated when phoebe brought up his sexual interest in Oyster. He hadn't spent too much time on the subject himself. After all, he and Oyster had only started messing around a few weeks ago. They had been stoned in his bedroom and, although unsure of how it happened, Oyster's mouth had ended up on Max's. Then respective hand jobs had been given. Neither of them had really talked about it. It was just an unspoken rule now that when the pot came out so did their homoerotic tendencies.

 

He wasn't gay. He had decided that at least. It was just a bro taking care of another bro's needs in exchange for pot. "Do you have to go?" Oyster asked. He seemed upset. Must be the fact that he's not getting any more pot.

 

"Max smirked.”Don't worry. You'll get a chance to earn some more of this later." He left a puppy dog faced Oyster in the bathroom. Max was surprised that a human could even have lips full enough to make that sort of face. If only he had been able to get those lips on his-

 

"Max," his sisters annoyed voice cut in, interrupting his train of thought.

 

"Could you keep it down about me and Oyster? Just because you caught us once doesn't give you the right to blab about it all over the school." She just gave him a satisfied look. "It's private!" He insisted through gritted teeth.

 

"Said the boy who's doing this _private_ thing in a _public_ bathroom." Before Max could make a response to his sister's smug face she continued saying, "Any way, we have bigger problems to worry about. Billy's in the nurse’s station... Again."

 

Max sighed and wondered why his brother was such a wuss. He had been getting his ass kicked for weeks now. Some douche bag named Devon. Max tried to help whenever he could but he wasn't around him that much at school because he was a grade higher. Also because he spent most of his time at school in the bathroom. Smoking pot. With Oyster.

 

Whenever Max asked about Devon, Billy would just say he was getting beat up because he was what Devon called, 'poor white trash.'

 

It was true to the extent of being poor. They didn't live in the best of neighborhoods and only really made enough money to scrape by. Which is why Max sold drugs and did a couple of other projects on the side. He never said who the money was from, always just leaving it on the table. Their parents always assumed it was from Phoebe. Which made sense. Phoebe was the boring, dutiful daughter and Max was Satan incarnate. The bad twin. It was all for the better anyway. He didn't like setting the bar high, it only made it worse when he inevitably let his parents down. It's not like they would approve of where the money was coming from anyway.

 

However, Max didn't really agree as far as the white trash part went. He hated that Devon kid. As if Devon could even talk. Devon lived in a trailer park, so he wasn't exactly Mr. Classy either. Max had even offered to help Billy learn to fight. If not for Billy's sake then to see Devon fall on his ass. But Billy always refused, saying he didn't want to hurt anyone. Hence, Max's never ending quest to take down Devon whenever he was around.

 

Phoebe and Max ended up at the nurse’s station, finding Billy with a blood soaked rag on his nose. "Jesus fuck Billy! Why didn't you fight back?"

 

"Enough, Max! Not all men prefer to act like Neanderthals." Her voice softened when she turned to Billy. "Are you okay Billy?" Phoebe knelt down to take a look at his nose, his arm, and well, a lot of things.

 

"I'm sorry, Max. I just don't like hurting people." Billy looked so sincere and innocent that Max couldn't bring himself to say anything snide so he just rolled his eyes. Maybe he needed to take drastic measures.

 

After making sure Billy was okay and making sure mom and dad wouldn't find out, he made his way back to Oyster. This happened every time with Billy. He didn't want their parents finding out so Phoebe would give them Max's number and Max would pretend to be Hank. It was easy. And Nora enjoyed putting make up on Billy's face to cover up the bruises. Max couldn't say why he went along with it. Probably because whenever Billy asked him to his eyes would well up with tears, sniffling about how he didn't want to stress out mom and dad. How could Max say no to that? He may be evil but he loves his family.

 

Arriving at the bathroom, he found it empty. "Fuck!" He yelled kicking the trash can. Now he high, horny, and worst of all, alone. He made his way to the stall on the end and sat down, unzipping his pants. Being alone was one of the worst things for Max nowadays. He used to enjoy his solitude, but ever since he met Oyster it just felt too... Quiet. Without Oyster's dumb jokes or goofy attitude to fill the silence... Well, Max didn't know! It was too confusing to think about. But what he was about to do wasn't. He started stroking, nice and slow, building up a rhythm. When he looked down he expected his imagination to cook up Tara Campbell, a fellow hellion of the school. Max had had a thing for her for a while. But he wasn't picturing her he was picturing Oyster!

 

I'm not gay, he told himself in his mind.

 

Oyster's mouth had just looked really good and (fucking hell) with those eyes looking up at you while you were getting blown, who wouldn't have at least one fantasy, right? He started pumping faster, adding a little spit for lube. He whispered Oyster's name.

 

Not gay. Not gay. Not a fag. He kept repeating in his head.

 

He imagined Oyster going all the way down to his balls and moaned, "Not a- hnnnngggg!" He finished in an embarrassingly quick time. It wasn't weird, right? Thinking about Oyster? Fuck no. It couldn't be. He and Oyster were just two bro's who helped each other out. So why couldn't they help each other out in their fantasies too? Speaking of which, he really wanted a blow job from Oyster now. Fuck handjobs. Handjobs couldn't feel nearly as good as blowjobs.

 

He made his way out of the bathroom and decided to go home. School was pretty much over anyhow. He passed by the last row of lockers and found his eyes falling on one in particular, Devon's. A sly smile dance upon his lips and he felt a rush of adrenaline. This would be the last day Devon even thought of hurting his little bro again.

 

**Oyster**

Oyster made his way into his last class of the day with a hard-on flipped up into his waistband. Damn Max Thunderman and his—his EVERYTHING! Oyster had never been this confused in his life. The things he did while stoned with Max left him totally conflicted. Was it gay? Did it even matter? And now he wasn't even so sure that pot was the only reason he was doing it anymore. He genuinely liked Max, sure. But was he in like with him? Or the better question, was Max in like with him?

 

The teacher was droning on about balancing equations. As if he was so smart! If he was so smart why didn't he solve the equation of his and Max's relationship?

 

"Dude?" He looked over and noticed a blond haired kid named Cole. "Calm down. What are you scribbling anyway?"

 

Oyster looked down and noticed his notebook filled with one name so many times: Max Thunderman. He gasped and quickly slammed it shut. "Uh, none of your business bro!" He flicked the front of his face hard, causing Cole to let out a small gasp of pain and hold his nose. "Pay attention!" He quickly peeked into his notebook and shut it again.

 

His head dropped hard onto the desk and groaned. "Oyster!" He lifted his head at super speed and saw the teacher glowering at him. "You can be stupid on your own time! Now be so kind and tell the class the answer to this problem."

 

Oyster tried looking at the equation but all he could picture in his mind was: Max + Oyster =?????

 

He groaned again answering, "Confusing!" He let his head thwunk into the desk again. The students started laughing hysterically. Normally Oyster would have been smirking because it would have been on purpose, but today he really was confused. About Max, his sexuality, and balancing mathematical equations.


	2. We Have Each Other, Why Rock The Boat?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oyster and Max both receive a surprise at school.  
> Max and Phoebe have a heart to heart.  
> Let's not even get into what happens at the park!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to Comment and/or Kudos. Seriously though, they give me fuel.

**Oyster**

Walking into school that day was weird for two reasons. The first one was Devon being shoved into a cop car. Oyster almost felt sorry for him. He was kicking and screaming, “I didn’t do it! I swear! Please!” There were even tears in his eyes. “Apparently he had drugs in his locker or something,” a voice spoke behind him, causing Oyster to jump. He turned around and saw Cole.

“Cole, what are you—Wait, what? Drugs?” Devon really didn’t seem like the type to do or sell drugs.

“Yeah, apparently an anonymous tip was called in about Devon having pot in his locker, but that’s hardly the worst of it,” Cole said.

‘What do you mean?”

“They found… other drugs. I don’t want to spread lies but I’ve heard everything from crack to heroin. Rumor was he’d been dealing it for someone at school. Some guy, I’m not sure of his name.” Cole seemed to lose himself in thought.

“Damn, but who would’ve—“ Oyster looked over to see max leaning against his locker taking in the show, the smug look of satisfaction on his face. Because of course it was Max. Which was the second reason why going to school was weird. Ever since Max and him had started fooling around Oyster didn’t know what to make of their friendship (relationship?) Even if he did like Max, Max would never like him. Because Max wasn’t gay. That was obvious. Max had a crush on Tara Campbell.

It was more than that though. Even if Max was gay there was something about him that terrified Oyster somewhat. Was Oyster a bad boy? Sure, as much as any adolescent guy with a guitar and something to prove was. Max on the other hand was a different story. There was something to him, a certain darkness that surrounded him. The only problem was it was also what made him so attractive to Oyster. Sometimes, when situations like these arose, he liked to play a game where he tried to decide if he was more terrified or turned on by Max’s reckless behavior. This time he wasn’t sure. Had Max planted drugs in Devon’s locker, perhaps? But Oyster also knew that Devon had been beating the crap out of Billy every day. Max’s protective instinct over those he loved was kinda… endearing.  Max was kinda like a coin in that way. On the one side he was the aforementioned bad boy, but on the other side (which he hardly ever showed to anyone) was a genuinely nice guy who would do anything for his family or friends.

“So listen, Oyster,” Cole began a little awkwardly. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime. Like, uh, go to a movie or something. I don’t know.” Cole was scratching the back of his head, obviously nervous.

Oyster, not really much paying attention to Cole muttered in reply, “What? Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Really?” Cole squeaked out. “Well, great. Tomorrow at 8 sound goo—“

“Sure Cole. Uh, I gotta go.” He pushed his way past whatever nonsense Cole was going on about and made his way to a pleased with himself Max. Oyster was pretty sure Max always wore whatever best would tease everyone. Today he wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his body way too tight in all the right places. His leather jacket clung to his taut back. He remembered the day Max got that jacket. It had originally been Gideon’s but Max (with the help of Oyster) had convinced Gideon that it definitely looked better on Max. Which, although a bit mean, was totally true.  “Max did you--?” Oyster gestured to the cop parade outside, hoping that would get his meaning across.

“Frame Devon by planting pot in his locker and letting an anonymous tip slip into the ears of the principal?” Max let out a mock gasp. “Why I never, Oyster. You _wound_ me with your accusations.” He slung an arm around Oysters shoulders and pulled him along. “Besides, I heard they found a lot more than just pot in his locker.”

“I can’t believe it,” Oyster said, stunned. He let Max steer him in any which way, a little dazed at the pleasurable burning sensation Max’s touch was leaving on his shoulders.

“Me either. I can’t believe I wasted primo weed on that kid when all I had to do was call the principal and say there was drugs in his locker. Fuck me!” He mournfully moaned. “And fuck you too!”

It was once again Oyster’s turn to be shocked. “”What? Fuck me? Why?”

“For what you said to Cole?”

“For what I said to Cole? I didn’t—“

“Don’t play dumb. You said you’d go to the movies with him! What is it a date? What are you guys now, gay best buddies?” Max asked.

“What? Max!” The bell rang and suddenly they were in the hall alone.

“Relax, dude!” He playfully shoved him up against a locker. “I know you’re not gay, now what the hell do you want to hang out with Cole for?” Oyster’s mind was racing. Had he agreed to hang out with Cole? He couldn’t remember. He hadn’t really been paying attention. He had been so eager to talk to Max. Fuck that was going to be weird. He and Cole weren’t really in the same circle of people. He seemed more Phoebe’s type. “Well?” Max pressed, pressing him further into the locker. Was Max jealous?

Lacking a response, he just said, “I don’t know. What was I supposed to say?”

Max rolled his eyes. “How about… **anything but yes?** Whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway. Because even though I wasted some on that dickface I still have enough weed to share with you tomorrow night. My bedroom?” Max gave him a sly smile and teasingly pushed his crotch into Oyster’s. Oyster couldn’t help but clutch onto Max’s should to hold him in that sweet spot. He let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. Max whispered in his ear, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Oyster could practically hear his blood pumping, even Max’s. All his senses seemed to be heightened. He could smell Max’s scent, so fucking close. He knew Max didn’t wear cologne, so how the fuck did he manage to smell so good? His body was screaming at him to say yes, but there was something nagging at him. What was it? They were just talking about it for Christ’s sake! Oh! Oh… He felt his body sober up immediately. “I can’t.”

“Why?” Max said, finally backing away from Oyster.

“You just said it. I agreed to hang with Cole.”

“Oh really. I have a solution for that— **Don’t go!** Problem solved. Next caller. Be at my house at seven!”

“Max!” Oyster wasn’t sure why he was he didn’t just go along with what Max was saying. He could just lie to Cole, say he was sick or something. Maybe he was still feeling weird about Max. What they were. Friends? Friends with benefits? What he was. Gay? Straight? Bi? He wouldn’t have to think about it with Cole. Although it was still strange that Cole wanted to hang out with him in the first place. What was his life anymore? “I’m not bailing on him.”

“Fine!” Max said, full on pout face. He turned on his heel and left Oyster feeling as conflicted as he had when he came to school.

**Max**

Max stormed his way right into Phoebe. “Whoa, Max?”

“Move!” He grumbled.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Busy!”

“You’re always busy,” she replied in her patented Max-tone. “Please?”

Max groaned and sat down on the nearest bench. “Fine!”

“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. It’s about Oyster.”

“Phoebe I already told you I don’t want to talk about that anymo—“

“I’m sorry,” she forced out.

“Say what?” Max replied a bit baffled.

“About what I said. I shouldn’t be spreading your personal affairs into the trenches of high school gossip,” she admitted.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t of.” She stared at him with her, don’t piss me off eyes. “Okay fine! Thanks for apologizing.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “I realize it was wrong because what you and Oyster do is your own business.”

“Right. Exactly.”

“You two are fully capable of making your own choices.”

“No arguments there!”

“And you should be able to come out on your own time.”

“Righ—I mean, what?”

“Hm?” Phoebe hummed unaware as to why Max was confused. “You two are together.”

“Whoa whoa whoa. We are _not_ together!” Max explained.

“Well, then why were you, with the kissing and the uh, other stuff?”

“It’s just two bros helping each other out, Phoebe! Don’t make it weird!”

“Riiiggghht,” she drawled out. “We wouldn’t want that.” Max could hear the sarcasm, could practically see it dripping out of her mouth. “We also wouldn’t want to be getting jealous than, would we? Not exactly normal friend behavior.”

“Jealous? Ha! Max Thunderman does not get jealous.”

“Mm hm. So then,” she said, “Explain this to me. Why are you soooo upset about Oyster hanging out with Cole?”

“How did you—were you ease dropping?” Max asked, incredulously.

Phoebe let out a snort, “What? Nooo…”

“Lies!”

“Well, okay yes. A little. But it was so hard not to. You guys were kinda cute.”

Max jumped out of his seat and pointed at his sister. “You—You take that back now.”

“What?” Phoebe laughed a little. “No, Max don’t be stupid.”

“Take it back!”

“Max it’s not a big deal. I’m accepting you!”

“Ha! Accept me? No one in this family has ever accepted me, so don’t start now. You want to do me a favor? Just stay the fuck out of my life, yeah? I don’t need any of you!” Max began to storm away.

“I know you leave money on the kitchen table!”

Max stopped and turned back around. “Excuse you?  I don’t know what you’re—“

“You pretend that nobody cares about you, and there for you don’t care about us. But you leave money on the kitchen table from your drug deals to help with bills, you planted drugs in Devon’s locker to protect Billy, and you are jealous of Cole because you’re afraid of losing Oyster! So stop pretending that you’re an apathetic fuck and admit you care.”

Max started to laugh. And it was a huge, honest to God, fit of laughter. He even started holding his sides once he saw Phoebe’s face transform from frustration to that of a face of confusion. “You don’t even know do you?” He asked through bouts of hilarity. Once the last chuckle had subsided he looked her straight in the eye and said, “Mom and dad think you leave the money.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The first night I decided to pitch in I put the money on the table when I got home. I was gonna give it to mom and dad when they got home, but came downstairs to see that they had already found the money. And you know what good old Hank and Barb said? They said, ‘Oh Phoebe is such a saint. Trying to help lift her poor family from the grips of poverty.’” Max exaggerated, throwing his hand to his forhead for effect. “That wasn’t even the awful part,” he continued, dropping the act. “I’m used to them fawning all over you like dad does the last piece of chocolate pie. The worst part was when mom said, ‘God I wish Max would be more like Phoebe.’” Phoebe looked down at her feet awkwardly. She didn’t really know what to say. “They couldn’t even think for one second that it could possibly have been me!”

“Why didn’t you tell them though?” Phoebe asked.

“Because it was fucking humiliating, Phoebe! There I was, ready to help the family and mom and dad were so convinced that it was you because hey, why not, I’m a shit kid. So I let them think it was you. It was easy enough. You’ve always been the favorite, it was nothing new. Why rock the boat? Max can’t get good grades like Phoebe. Max doesn’t care about the family like Phoebe!” Max was shouting now and a few teachers were sticking their heads out of the classroom to see what the fuss was. “Max will never be a good kid like Phoebe!” A tear trickled down his cheek. “We’ll never love Max—“ Phoebe shut her eyes waiting for the, ‘like Phoebe’ part to ring loud in her ears, but it never came. There it was. Just four words: _We’ll never love Max._

Phoebe felt a few tears slide down her face as well. Did he really think that? “Max,” she tried reaching out to him, but he turned around and ran.

Max cursed himself as he ran to the park. It was a place he liked to go when he needed to think. No way was he staying for the rest of the day. He made his way to a swing and set down. How could he say all that? To Phoebe of all people. She’d never let him hear the end of it. He let a few sobs out. Who was gonna hear it? There were no kids here on a Friday during school.

_Crunch!_ At least there usually wasn’t. However, Max heard footsteps being pressed into the gravel. His body tensed. Had someone followed him from school? He heard them getting closer and his adrenaline started pumping. He had run out of that place as fast as a bullet there was no way someone had followed him. Then who was approaching him? He felt the little hairs rise up on his neck. They were right behind him.

He leapt from the swing and turned around to face whoever it was. “Fuck off—Oyster?”

Needless to say, Oyster did not fuck off. He simply took a seat on the swing next to the one Max was using. Max, without saying anything else, took back his original seat. “How’d you know where I was?”  


“You’re kidding, right? You always come here to think.”

“You know my thinking place?”

“Well, that and I know you sell pot here.”

There was a few moments of silence till they were both dying of laughter. “That’s true. I do love the park for oh so many reasons. But how did you know I even left school?”

“I kinda heard the fight you had with Phoebe.”

His heart rate shot through the roof. Was everyone a fucking spy?! “How much?!”

“Just the last bit. It was hard to miss. You were kinda screaming.”

Max’s heart rate slowed back down. At least he hadn’t hear his sister accusing him of being jealous of Oyster’s hangout with Cole. That would have made this a whole new level of awkward. Because he wasn’t gay, but if Oyster thought he was how was he going to convince him otherwise? Oyster was one of his only friends. He was one of the only few people left that he could tell shit to. He couldn’t lose that.

“Do you really think that?”

“What?” Max asked, being broken out of his train of thought.

“That your parents don’t love you?”

“I don’t know, Oyster.” Max felt his throat constrict. _Do not cry, fucker_ he told himself.

“I don’t have any parents.” Max looked at Oyster said. Max’s mouth dropped open. It wasn’t even so much the information, but rather the way he said it. It was so cavalier, casual in the way the words flowed. Like it didn’t hold any emotional weight but was just pure, solid fact. “They’re dead. I mean, I have my aunt Rose, but she’s not really around too much.”

“Oyster,” Max said, finding himself copying his sister’s tone of voice from earlier.

“I’m not saying this so that you can feel sorry for me, Max. I’m just saying that ever since you moved here this past year, I haven’t been as upset about it as usual. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I guess I’m saying, that even though I don’t have their love, I have yours. And I know how much you hate sappy shit,” Oyster laughed, “But I just want you to know that even if you believe your parents don’t care, or that they’re too busy with Phoebe, that I care about you. And we don’t need anyone’s approval, care, or love. Because we’ll have enough of it for each other.”

They sat there for a bit, the sounds of the rusty chains squeaking as they moved back and forth.

“You done?” Max asked, a certain hardness in his eyes.

“Yeah…”

“Good.” Max didn’t know what Oyster was expecting, but if his surprised gasp was anything to go by then he obviously hadn’t expected Max to throw his arms around him and bury his head into the crook of his shoulder. Oyster slowly wrapped his arms around Max and they sat there for a while. A long while. The world didn’t seem so bad in this moment. Too bad the definition of moment implies that it starts only to end. And the person watching Max from the bushes was going to make sure of that. Just you wait.


	3. Three's A Crowd So Who's The Spare?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oyster and Cole go out on their date (hangout)?  
> Max may or may not intrude.  
> Lost of awesome Max and Phoebe sibling love!  
> Nora gets Creative.  
> Max gets a mysterious letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping there is more interest in this story eventually on this site. There is on fanfiction.net so I may just stop posting it here and post it there if there continues to be no interest. If you do like the story and want to continue reading it there my name is Arcanium there as well or you can follow this link to the story: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11610672/1/The-Kids-Are-Alright As of right now though I am continuing to post the story here as I like this site a little better. Please kudos or comment because hits don't tell me if you enjoyed the story. Love you all :)

**Max**

 

Max kicked off his shoes and practically powered down like a robot. Today was Saturday. Aka: Oyster and Cole hang out day. Max was still a bit pissed off that he was choosing Cole over him still. And as much as he didn't want to think about it he couldn't help it. What did this mean? And why did it have to be the movies? Why not video games or something equally more hangoutish?   Fuck! He was no good at this interpersonal bull shit! He needed someone intuitive to others emotions. Someone sappy. Someone who got that disgusting ooey gooey feeling when they watched Love Actually.

 

His eyes bulged and his face turned a pale sort of color. Nope. No way was he calling Phoebe. But who then? Billy wasn’t exactly Dr. Love. Although he claimed to be from time to time. That left only... No. Was he really that desperate?

 

"Nora!" Apparently he was. He waited a few seconds before calling her name again. It took a while but he eventually heard her coming down the stairs.

 

"I'm so glad we got that intercom installed," she spoke in that sweet voice she had.

 

"What?"

 

"Oh right. It was just your big booming voice!" Max rolled his eyes at her attempt at sarcasm.

 

"Shut up. I need help."

 

"With what?" She hopped down the last stop and plopped herself down on his mattress.

 

"I need a girl’s opinion on something."

 

Nora's face lit up with excitement. "Oh my god! Is it clothes? A make over? Because I have so many ideas!"

 

"You are not coming near me with any make up supplies!" Had this been a mistake? He heard her mumbling about maybe using a little eyeliner and giving his hair some lift. Yup, big mistake.

 

"No lift or eyeliner!" He shouted. "It's not about me anyway. It's about Oyster."

 

"He needs a makeover to? Because I've been charging girls around the neighborhood and I've gotten pretty good."

 

"No! It's just. He's hanging out with this guy named Cole and I just wanted to know, could you define hanging out?"

 

"Max," she said, staring at him with blank eyes. “Did you hit your head and forget how to use a dictionary?"

 

"No! That's not what I mean. It's just that—Well when guys say hangout it sometimes means a little more than that. So I just, I'm not sure if it's... you know?"

 

Max gave himself an air five for calling Nora to answer this question because she was too young to read between the lines. She didn't ask about possible jealousy and the like. Granted not having the skills to read between the lines may inhibit her interpersonal relation skills and bias her answer, but he'd worry about that later. 

 

"Well, what are they doing?"

 

"Going to the movies."

 

"Hmm. I don't know. Sometimes guy friends do go to the movies with each other. But you know who would?" Max reached out his hand to stop her but it was too late. "Phoebe!"

 

Max reddened in the face and considered calling the whole thing off. He didn’t want to see his sister after what he had admitted to her, yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell Nora to bug off. Partially because he did love her (she didn’t understand his weird love-hate, competition-based relationship he had with Phoebe) and also because he just couldn’t stand the thought of Oyster and Cole on a date together. Not that he was jealous, it was just that Oyster could do a lot better than that goody, Abercrombie dickhead. Yeah, that was it. He was just looking out for Oyster. And yes, he did realize how ineloquent the word dickhead sounded.  

 

The familiar noise of someone coming down the stairs brought Max out of his train of thought. Phoebe herself didn’t look all that comfortable entering Max’s room, especially since she had not been invited by Max himself. “Yeah?” She sounded so uncertain. Good! At least Max wasn’t the only one feeling this awkward.

 

Before Max could reply Nora about bursted saying, “Max is afraid that Cole and Oyster hanging out is actually a date but doesn’t know for sure. Obviously he’s worried that if they start a relationship, he won’t get to spend as much time with him. He asked me, but I wasn’t sure. So I called you!” So much for not being able to read between the lines. It could have been worse. She could have said that Max was afraid of losing his boyfriend. “Also, Max is in desperate need of a makeover.” Max literally did a face palm.

 

“Thanks, Nora. I think you’ve helped enough for today!” Max said, putting a hand over her mouth. Who know what she’d say next.

 

Phoebe’s huge smile made Max instantly regret every action that led him to this exact moment. “Awe, is little Maxie jealous?”

 

“Alright. Get out. Both of you.”

 

“What did I do?” Nora whined.

 

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. How can I help?” Phoebe asked, sitting down on Max’s bed.

 

“Well, they went to go see this movie and Cole just seemed so nervous when he asked Oyster if he wanted to see it. I just don’t want my friend dating that loser. I mean, who would ever want to be seen with that lame ass—“ He looked over and saw his sister glaring at him. “What? You learned your lesson. You broke it off with him. Besides, it’s not like his dorkdome could actually make your rep any worse than it already is. ”

 

“God, is it always going to be this difficult to help you?” Max just shrugged as if it was a thought that didn’t really matter to him. “Anyway, from what I heard at school, Cole is definitely interested in Oyster. However, I don’t know if this could really be classified as a date. There really isn’t anyway to know unless you go down there and see for yourself. But that would be crazy and—“ She looked over and saw that Max was throwing on his leather jacket. “And you’re totally going, aren’t you?”

 

“No!” He defensively said. “Well, yes. Bye!”

 

“Wait!” Nora yelled. Max paused in his steps and turned around to see Nora holding a jar of something or another. Oh god, it was styling cream. “If you’re gonna go crash a date you’re going to have to shake it up a little.”

 

“I don’t think so, Nora! Where did you even get that from?” She grabbed his hand and led him to a chair and shoved him into it.

 

“Sit!” Nora’s voice was very stern. For such a sweet appearance, Nora could be pretty feisty.

 

**Oyster**

Oyster stood outside the movie theater looking forlornly at his phone. Max hadn’t really text him since their scene at the park and it was driving him mad. Usually Max was constantly texting him and vice versa. But the lack of texts from Max had Oyster feeling self-conscious, wondering if he should even bother to contact Max at all. It actually pissed him off a little. Why should he feel self-conscious? Max was the one who had initiated the hug.

 

Oyster saw Cole walking up the street towards the building. Quickly Oyster checked himself in the glass of the door. His hair was done in usual, messy fashion and he wore a blue jean material button up, no sleeves, with a short sleeve, dark green undershirt. Looking back at the blond making his way towards him, Oyster noticed a vast difference. Cole was wearing corduroys with an informal, casual white button up. His look just seemed so _neat and tidy_ compared to Oyster. He wondered what Cole would think when he saw his look which was kind of messy and not well put together. He immediately flattened his hair and tried to make it look manageable.

 

Why was he so nervous? This wasn’t a date. Wait, was that a flower in Cole’s hand? Fuck, this was a date. Oyster turned red. He didn’t know if he wanted to go on a date with Cole. He didn’t even know if he was into guys yet or not. Was Cole cute? Yes. Was Cole hot? Yes. Was he thinking these things in an objective way or more of a subjective (I want to fuck you) sort of way? Oyster had no fucking clue. It was too late to duck out now. Cole had already seen him and was less than ten feet away.

Cole approached him with a sort of nervousness that Oyster actually found kinda cute. “Hey,” he leaned in to give Oyster a kiss on the cheek which Oyster was too surprised by to reject or avoid. Did he even want to avoid it? It did feel nice.

 

“Hey,” Oyster responded in a somewhat trance.

 

“I like your hair.”

 

“Oh. I don’t know. I don’t usually do it this way.”

 

“Really? You should. It looks good on you.”

 

“Thanks,” he replied automatically. Although he appreciated the compliment he kind of hated his hair this way. It felt weird, and looking in the glass again made him wish he hadn’t smoothed it down. It was just that Cole had looked so business casual and (Was that a fucking part in his hair?) Oyster had gotten a little self-conscious (What the actual fuck was he thinking? There was a part in his hair!). “You too!” He quickly added. “You look very nice.”

           

Oyster had to admit that some of this was nice. Going out on a date felt good, but also a little mechanical and stereotypical. The movies, a kiss on the cheek, a flower, and complemental small talk… It was all so structured. There was just no wow factor. But it was nice and so was Cole. This could work out in his favor too. If he was with Cole maybe he would learn to forget about his confusing feelings for Max. Wait, what was he thinking? Going out and dating Cole? Maybe he was gay? Bi? Fuck it! He was Oyster, he could date whoever the fuck he wanted, boy or girl.

 

“Well, should we go inside?” Cole asked.

 

“Yeah! Sure thing!” They made their way inside and grabbed their tickets, popcorn, and drinks. They had decided to see a new horror movie that was just released. Oyster loved horror movies, although he would never admit that he got a little spooked during them.

 

After making their way into the theater, they chose some seats near the back. Sitting down, Oyster made sure to sit his flower down carefully on the empty seat to his side. It was actually kind of awkward. He never understood the premise of giving someone a flower that they awkwardly had to carry around with them and take care of the whole fucking entire time. But it was sweet, he supposed. What was wrong with being sweet?

 

 _Maybe because he isn’t you know who? A rough bad boy we both know you wish you were with tonight? The person who amazes you with his awesome smoke ring making abilities. The guy who makes you shiver with his talented tongue—_ He told the voice in his head to shut the fuck up.

 

“I’m so glad you agreed to go out with me tonight! I was a bit nervous when I asked you.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Again he was giving another automatic response. The socially accepted response. He also had to force himself not to say, ‘It’s not like there was a lot of pressure, I wasn’t really listening anyway. Why? Oh because I was too focused on Max. Yeah, you know my straight best friend that I occasionally mess around with when we get high together.’ Okay, so maybe he wasn’t actually going to say all that, but he was definitely thinking all of it.

 

“I didn’t even know if you were interested in guys.”

 

 _Neither did I,_ his inner voice supplied as a possible response.

 

“Mhm. I’ve known for a long time.” _You have?_ “I mean it’s kind of obvious, you know?” _It’s really not._ “When you know you just know.” _Liar._

“Exactly. I mean, I’ve always known I was interested in girls and guys. It’s great to be out with someone who has it all figured out.”

 

“Yeah,” Oyster supplied. “I mean, going out with someone who’s confused could get…Well, confusing,” he finished lamely. “Oh! Look! Movies starting! Great! Popcorn!” He shoved a lot of it into his mouth to keep his lying mouth busy.

 

After their awkward talk, Oyster was thankful for the movie date choice. There wasn’t a lot of pressure to fill the silence with meaningless chit chat. Oyster was even starting to enjoy himself. Cole wasn’t such a bad guy to hang out with really. Then Cole’s foot touched his and he felt a spark. It was interesting and familiar. Not knowing if it was intentional or nor, Oyster let it go without making a remark. But then he felt the same spark again when Coles foot had wandered over, grazing the bottom of his leg and ankle. The spark was a good feeling and Oyster was never one to deny a good feeling (obviously) so he returned the favor by locking his ankle around Cole’s too. He then felt Cole’s arm sneak around his shoulders. It was such a good feeling. It reminded him of when Max did it earlier in the hallway at school on Friday. He leaned into it and rested his head on his shoulder. He could feel Cole’s gaze on him, so he looked up to meet it.

 

What he saw shocked him. It wasn’t Cole’s blonde hair he was looking into, it was Max’s medium brown. It wasn’t Cole’s blue eyes, but Max’s deep chestnut. He jumped away and shook his head back and forth. He took a better look and saw a very confused Cole. Fuck! Why did he see Max? He thought the date with Cole had been going well. That maybe he could date him and forget about Max but instead he was having hallucinations in the dark.  

 

“Are you okay?’ Cole asked.

 

“Uh, yeah.” He looked off into the dark towards the stairs to avoid eye contact when he saw a familiar body making its way towards them. Who was that? “I just got a little weirded out because I was thinking about—“ No way. It couldn’t be him. “Max?”

 

“You were thinking about Max? On our date?” Cole asked still confused and with a somewhat hurt tone in his voice.

 

“No.” _Yes!_ “Max is here.” He was indeed. He was there, obviously making his way towards them. He looked fucking hot as all fucking hell. What was the new thing he was doing with his hair…And the leather jacket he took off revealed a sleeveless shirt.

 

“Hey guys!” He said as if they had all three planned to hang out. “What’s up?” He took the seat next to Oyster, crushing the flower Cole had given him. If someone thought that this was an omen of where things were starting to head, well, they certainly weren’t wrong.

 

**Max**

One of the things Max put on his to do list was to bake a cake for Nora. As much as he had protested getting a makeover, Nora had actually done a pretty decent job. The crazy thing was she hadn’t even had to do much.  She had made his naturally straight hair lift up in the front, giving it a wilder look. He had drawn the line at eyeliner, but she had also chosen his clothes for him. He wore a sleeveless black shirt and a pair of dark red shorts. Nora said the black and red combo gave his evil a bit more flair. Obviously it worked because Oyster was taking notice. Good.

 

“What are you doing here?” Cole said, the annoyance in his voice obvious. “And you sat on the flower I got for Oyster!”

 

“Oh you got him a flower? How sweet,” An evil knowing smile touched his lips. “Sorry I had no idea,” he lied. He pulled it out from under him and saw how it was pretty much in half. “I’m sorry. On the up side at least it _was_ pretty.” Max casually threw the broken flower on the ground. He focused on Oyster and gave him a nod, his smile turning to a genuine one. “Hey, Oyster”

 

“Hey, Max,” he started unsure, still looking at his muscled arms.

 

“What is it Oyster?” He teased. “Do I have something on my shirt?” He pretended to look for something that he knew wasn’t there.

 

 Oyster quickly shook his head and said, “What are you doing here?”

 

“The more important question is what did you do to your hair?’ Max chuckled. “Did your aunt try and do it again?”

 

“Seriously Max,” Oyster started, “What are you-uhhh.” He was interrupted as Max started to work his fingers through Oyster’s hair, restoring it to its naturally messy state that Max loved so much.

 

“There!” Max smirked, satisfied with his work. “So much better.” He let his hand that was still in his hair travel slowly down his face and off his chin.

 

“T-th-thanks,” Oyster stuttered. His face even managed to turn a bit pink to Max’s delight.

 

“Ah hem!” Cole cleared his throat loudly.

 

“Oh right! I’m here because when Oyster said you two were hanging out tonight I originally objected, mostly because I don’t like you.” Max’s evil smile was back. He enjoyed playing with Cole. “But then I thought maybe I was being too hard on you. So I thought I’d give you a chance. However, I didn’t know it was a date. He just said you two were hanging out.”

 

“You didn’t tell him it was a date?”

 

Oyster broke his gaze from Max and looked at Cole. “You didn’t tell me it was a date! I thought we were hanging out like you said. Then I saw the flower and you gave me a kiss on the cheek…”

 

Max broke his nice guy façade for a second as his eyes went wide. They had kissed? It was only on the cheek, but still! They had kissed?!

 

“Then everything was going so nicely that I didn’t see a point in calling it off.”

 

Wait, so he wanted the date to continue? Was he actually having feelings for Cole? That bugged Max a lot more than it should.

 

“So you wanted to stay? With me?” Stupid Cole had a stupid grin on his stupid face. Max wanted to wipe it off with his fist. Unfortunately for Max, Oyster nodded in agreement. “Look, I was kind of misleading. Why don’t we just call this what you thought it was originally, two guys hanging out. Er…Three now. We can all get to know each other and then maybe we can reschedule for an actual date. Deal?” He extended his hand out to Oyster.

 

“Sure,” Oyster taking his hand actually made Max’s jaw drop. Why wouldn’t he just ditch this loser for fucks sake?

 

“Well,” Max said, purposefully stretching so that his muscles flexed a bit, “Since we’re all hanging out might as well watch the movie.” Max was bursting with excitement when he noticed that Oyster’s gaze was back on him and his arms.

 

There were a few mutters of agreement from annoyed moviegoers who were probably wishing they’d shut up. Max ended his stretching allowing one of his arms to casually drape over the back of Oyster’s seat. It wasn’t quite touching his shoulders but it was close enough that he noticed Oyster squirm bit. He had to play it cool. He couldn’t initiate anything with Oyster or else it would be obvious. It had to be Oyster’s idea so that Cole would get the hint that Oyster was way more interested in Max than his lame ass.

 

Cole apparently saw this as a challenge and took a hold of Oyster’s hand. Max clenched the fist of the hand that wasn’t near Oyster. So much for it not being a date. Fine, if Cole could play than so could he. He let his arm fall a bit more, allowing his finger to brush the tip of Oyster’s shoulder, not quite touching enough so that he could still pretend it was innocent.

 

The best part of the night came when a big noise filled the theater as the killer came out with a chainsaw. Despite being lame and totally predictable in Max’s opinion, it caused Oyster to jump. And instead of seeking comfort in Cole, he took his hand out of Cole’s and used it to take hold of Max’s hand hanging by his shoulder. This led to Max’s arm falling completely over Oyster’s shoulder, meaning it was practically all the way around Oyster now. Max looked towards Cole and smiled. Cole just glared right back. Oyster, realizing what he had done quickly stopped and folded his arms.

 

**Oyster**

What was wrong with him, grabbing Max’s hand instead of Cole’s? Wasn’t the whole point of dating Cole to _forget_ Max Thunderman? Because it obviously couldn’t happen. It had been going so well too. Before that scene he had actually been enjoying holding Cole’s hand. It was nice. Then again, there was that word again: Nice. When he got scared he wasn’t thinking of who was nice, he was thinking of who he felt safest with and that was, and probably would always be, Max.

 

Now Cole seemed pissed, Max seemed somewhat satisfied, and he just felt all kinds of awkward. They finished the rest of the movie without physical contact of any sort. When the movie was finished none of them moved an inch until the credits had completely rolled. Probably all for different reasons. Max obviously wasn’t going to leave without Oyster. And Oyster’s theory was that as long as they were basked in darkness with the movie to keep their attention he didn’t have to talk about anything that had happened. Cole just seemed despondent.

 

Unfortunately, the credits did end and the lights came on. They all shuffled their way outside when Oyster felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Cole. “Oyster? Can we talk?” He looked at Max. “Alone!”

 

“Uh, sure.” Fuck his life. “Be right back Max.”

 

They found a secluded area next to an abandoned (obviously not used in years) snack booth. Cole folded his arms again and said, “What was that in the theater? Is there something going on between you two or something? Because I thought you said you were having a nice time with me.”

 

“No, Cole I am. Honest. I just, I don’t know what that was.” This wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t use Cole as a buffer to keep himself away from Max. “I like you, really.”

 

Cole just let out a huge sigh. “Look whatever this is between you and Max, I don’t want any part in it. So tell me you have no feelings for Max and I’ll let it go and we can go on another date with all of this forgotten.”

 

He really shouldn’t. This wasn’t fair to Cole. “There isn’t. I’m not. He isn’t. Okay?” Where was the popcorn when you needed it, eh?

 

Cole let out a little huff of laughter. “You’re lying. You’re actually lying to my face.”

 

Okay, apparently Cole had superpowers. “No I’m not.” What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t falsities stop coming out of his mouth. It was like his mouth was a volcanoes of lies and lava was pouring out at an escalating rate.

 

“You just did it again! Stop it!”

 

“Okay, okay. So we may fool around when we’re high sometimes. But it doesn’t mean anything,” he said trying to convince himself more than Cole. “I don’t have feelings for Max and Max is straight.”

 

“Oh so that’s why he played the role of the jealous girlfriend tonight and why you chose to grab his hand and not mine?”

 

“That was nothing!”

 

“Bullshit! You like him. You’re just too much of a coward to admit it. Well, that’s okay. You can have him and him you. But let me tell you something about Max Thunderman. He's not who you think he is! I dated his sister and if there’s one thing you can count on its not being able to count on him! He will always let you down! _Always!_ He’s a selfish little prick who only has one person on his mind, himself!Just ask his sister.”

 

Oyster couldn’t help it. He tried to hold it back but his fist was already flying and connecting with Cole’s face. Cole looked up at him, his nose bleeding. Max immediately was at Oyster’s side. “Oyster, what the hell? I mean, good fucking job and all, but what the hell!?”

 

“It’s okay, Oyster,” Cole said. He reached up and touched his nose. “Really, it is. You’ll see.” He started walking away. “And when you do, give me a call.”

 

“Fuck off!” Oyster shouted. He then grabbed his fist when Cole was out of sight. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! That hurt!”

 

“You’ve never punched someone before?” Max asked.

  
“No! Ow!”

 

“Come here, doofus.” He led Oyster to a seat and took a hold of his hand. “Let me look at it, yeah?” He took it in his hands and started to massage it, checking for any possible injuries. ‘Its fine.” Max smiled. “See?” He held it up and did a hulk impression. “Oyster hand strong. Oyster hand smash! It smash puny Cole’s nose!” Oyster started to laugh. He loved Max’s dumb jokes. It never mattered if they were funny or not. Max was just Max. He always made Oyster feel better by making him laugh. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. “We’ll just ice it.”

 

“Great to know. At least I remembered to keep my thumb on the outside.”

 

“Yeah, at least. So why did you punch him anyway. Did he try something?” Max got a dark look on his face. “Because if he did!” If Oyster was playing his game he would definitely be more attracted than scared.

 

“No, no. He just said some uncouth things about you?”

 

“Un-what?’

 

“Exactly.”

“Oyster!” Max warned. “Tell me. I will get out a dictionary.”

 

“He just said some not nice things about you is all.”

 

“You were defending my honor?’

 

“For a lack of a better phrase, yes?” They both started to laugh until their sides hurt. Then Oyster felt Max’s mouth on his. It was the most intense kiss he’d ever experienced and Max was using his tongue which was…whoa! He liked it on his neck and chest but with kissing? Forget about it.

 

“That is so fucking hot!” Max grabbed his good hand. “Let’s go ice it at my house, get stoned, do some uncouth things, and then maybe we could watch something till we fall asleep.”

 

“I’m staying over?”

 

‘Yes! Definitely!” Max’s voice was so lust filled and there was an apparent air about it that said no arguments to the contrary would be considered valid.

 

**Max**

Max had never been so turned on in his life. Was that a little gay? Maybe. But Max didn’t need to think about that. A bro could reward another bro for defending him. And what better reward was there than pot and sex, right? They were making out in the hallway of his house when they heard a cough. Stopping to see who had made the noise, they saw Phoebe. Because of course it would be Phoebe.

 

“Oh my god! Do you just follow me and Oyster around to see when the next free show is?” Max groaned.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I see Cole wasn’t to your liking either, Oyster?”

 

“I don’t know. He was _nice_ but—“ He was about to say ‘not Max,’ but stopped himself short. “You know?”

 

“Boring? It’s okay Oyster you can say it. Nice equals boring. I’m well aware as I did date the guy. As you were, gentlemen,” she said, giving a mock salute. They almost began kissing again when Phoebe turned around and said, “One more thing Max. There was a letter left for you after you went to go see Oyster and Cole.”

 

“Who left it?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“What did it say?”

 

“I. Don’t. Know.” Phoebe let out a small laugh. “As much as you might like to think I have a big interest in and stalk your life I actually do not. It’s on the kitchen table. Night, baby bro!”

 

“You’re older by 20 seconds!” Max called after her.

 

“Best 20 of my life!”

 

Max pushed Oyster against the wall and kissed him again, taking in his essence. After they broke apart he said, “You can go downstairs. I’ll be there in a second.”

 

“Yeah. Okay.” Oyster started to head down the stairs.

 

“Hey!” He grabbed his hand, spinning him around for another kiss. “Don’t take off your shirt or anything else either.” He leaned in real close and whispered, “I like to do that myself.”

 

Oyster turned around with a big smile on his face, heading downstairs.

 

**Oyster**

Oyster realized some very important things from his date tonight. One was that Phoebe had been right. The problem with the word nice was that nothing accompanied it when attached to Cole. Cole was nice, sure, but Max. Max was fire, ice, and gravity. Secondly, Oyster realized he couldn’t snuff these feeling for Max away but getting under someone new. Third, he was gay, at least bi. And lastly, he wanted things with Max to continue. He knew that Max would never return the feeling that Oyster had, but if Oyster could get this close to the real thing then that was good enough for him.

 

**Max**

Max felt elated. Everything about this night was going great. He was going to get to do all the things with Oyster and Oyster had ditched that tool, Cole. He was even getting along with Phoebe. Something he hadn’t been able to do for a long time. He had missed his twin.

 

He found the aforementioned letter on the table. It was strange. The only thing on the envelope was his name, written in huge block letters. There was no return address or even his address, so it obviously wasn’t sent by mail. He took it and ripped the top open and pulled the letter out slowly.

 

It was actually a little blank note care.

 

There were only five words on it, printed very neatly: I know what you did?

 

I know what you did, Max thought. What the hell did that mean? He rolled his eyes. It was probably just someone fucking with him. How very I Know What You Did Last Summer of them. It didn’t matter anyway. Max was way too wired to care or bother with the letter in question. He had an insanely hot guy to nurse back to health with ice, pot, and sexy times. This letter could wait. As he took the ice out of the fridge, he wondered what else they could use this ice for.

 

In retrospect it would probably have been a good idea for Max to pay better attention to that letter.


	4. You Have One Mutual Stalker, It's Like Facebook!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max gets another note.  
> Oyster gets one of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! Sorry about the hiatus. I was dealing with my inability to write sexy times properly. My bad! Hopefully it isn't too bad!

**Oyster**

Sitting in the Thunderman's basement (Max's bedroom) was usually the norm whenever Oyster came over. It was either that or the small ass garage out back where they sometimes had band practice. Was the band going anywhere? Most likely not, but it was all the more time Oyster got to spend with Max. Plus, he did enjoy making music. Although some of Max's lyrics left something to be desired.

 

However Max's mouth, which was currently nipping and sucking on his neck did not. Max was desire itself. A desire so filthy and taunting it made Oyster grip him all the more tightly. Max loved taking control in the bedroom and Oyster loved he was able to bring that side out in him.

 

Oyster heard a tear and realized that Max had torn his shirt open. "Fucking Christ, Max!" Oyster motioned to his now ruined shirt. Playing his secret game: More turned on than scared.

 

Max just gave him a smirk. "It was in the way." He continued to remove the pieces off of Oyster so he could have complete access to his upper body. "You can have one of mine later. Anyone you like. I like it when you wear my clothes." He was grinding his pelvis into Oyster's.

 

"Jesus! Max! I want-" He couldn't think. It was too much. The mix of the THC and Max's presence was overwhelming.

 

"What do you want, Oyster?" He teasingly kept lightly grinding against him. "I can't help you unless you tell me."

 

Oyster tried reaching for Max's shirt but Max held his hands down over his head. "No! You have to tell me. Go ahead. Ask." Max gave an evil smile. He was gonna be the end of him.

 

"I want- I want-oh!" Max applied a particularly good amount of pressure to Oyster's groin.

 

"Yes?"

 

"C-can I please take your shirt off, Max?” Oyster turned kinda pink. He got a little embarrassed sometimes when participating in sexy times with Max. It was a good feeling though, a nice warmness that seized his whole body.  

 

"And why would you want to do that, Oyster?" Oyster glared for a second, knowing that Max was fucking with him.

 

"You know why."

 

Max went down and lightly nipped at Oysters nipple. “Pretty sure I don’t, Oyster.” He quipped, nipping, teasing, and torturing Oyster on his way up to his ear where he whispered, “So you should tell me.”

 

“Can I please take off your shirt so that I can feel…” Max looked at him expectantly. “Your muscles! Okay? That’s what I want.” He saw Max bite his bottom lip in that way he did whenever he was satisfied. Max could be pretty smug sometimes, but it was also kinda hot too. Eh, Oyster figured he had to pick his battles.

**Max**

 

Max's face was one of pure pleasure. He knew Oyster appreciated his physique. He felt a little bad but he just couldn’t help himself sometimes. Teasing Oyster was so fun. And it wasn’t completely one sided. Max appreciated Oyster’s body too. He didn’t have quite as much muscle, but Max loved how tall and lanky he was. Max stilled for a moment. That was a weird thought, wasn’t it? Not a gay one though. Max was fairly certain that he could objectively appreciate his best friend’s body. He let go of Oysters hands and let him remove his shirt.

 

Max let oyster up off the bed as well so that they were both on their knees. Oyster was feeling Max’s arms (and if Max was flexing a little bit to enrich the experience, well Oyster didn’t need to know.). There was only a bit more of this before Oyster started to kiss Max as well. Max had to admit that kissing was one of his favorite parts next to making Oyster squirm. That only made sense though right? The lips were a sensitive part of the body. It wasn't because of feelings or any weird shit like that. He felt Oyster make his way down to Max’s chest where he spent a good amount of time sucking and kissing the warm taut skin. One moment would be nice with just a bit of tongue and the next would be an excellent tension caused by a bit of teeth. He then made sure to kiss each of Max's abs on the way down.

This was what Max had been thinking about since that day in the boy’s bathroom. He felt Oyster Undo his pants button and zipper with his teeth. He then looked up at Max with a shy face—his eyes looked so innocent that he just couldn’t wait to corrupt him—and asked permission to suck him off. Max could of literally came right there. "Fuck! Yes! Now, please! Really?" He asked to make sure Oyster actually wanted to because he wasn’t a complete douche. Oyster immediately nodded.

 

Max leaned back onto the bed while guiding Oyster's head towards his cock. Oyster helped him shed his pants and found Max's erection bulging through his blue and black boxers. Max tried to play it cool. He had to avoid coming embarrassingly quick. He felt Oyster mouth at his outline and moaned like a pornstar. Fuck. This was gonna be fast.

 

**Oyster**

 

The first thing Oyster questioned was how the fuck was he supposed to fit all of this into his mouth. Oyster was pretty decently sized, about average 6 and half inches, but Max had to easily be 8". Again. Fuck.

 

He began to pull down his underwear. Max's cock sprang straight in the air. Oyster gave it an experimental lick. The taste wasn't too bad. He took it into his mouth, being careful of his teeth. From the noises Max was making he figured he had to be doing a good job. He wasn't able to make it all the way down (it was his first blow job okay?) so he tried making up for it by swishing his tongue around the head.

 

"Fuck Oyster. You feel amazing!" He felt Max's hands run through his hair. Which was quite nice as was his straining cock in his pants. The whole experience was so erotic it left Oyster achingly hard. "Yeah. Deeper. That's it! Good boy."

 

Oyster tried using his hand as well to come up with some sort of rhythm. After a couple seconds an idea sprung into his mind. He massaged under Max's balls while going as deep as he could, letting his tongue massage the head as well. He felt Max involuntarily thrust upwards at the sensation. It caused Oyster to gag a little. "Shit dude! I'm gonna come." Oyster didn't want to stop so he kept going. Max made several attempts to warn Oyster before he got the clue that Oyster obviously didn't want to be warned. "Fuck, Oyster I'm gonna-gonna ahhhnnnnggg!" Oyster felt it shoot onto his tongue. It was an acquired taste he had to assume. It wasn’t so much about enjoying the taste though as getting off on the fact that you were able to bring someone so much pleasure that they—Well, point made, right?

 

The thing was Oyster had a bit of a problem…

 

**Max**

 

“Shit dude!” He panted out. “That was amazing.”

 

“Yeah. Totally awesome…” Max tilted his head. Oyster was acting kind of weird. His posture was like a nervous cat, all hunkered down as if he was trying to shrink into the background. His voice sounded a little strained as well.

 

“You okay?” He asked. Then he realized something and felt like complete shit. “Oh fuck me! Sorry! I need to return the favor. Right!” He made a grab to unbutton Oyster’s jeans when Oyster stilled his hand with his own.

 

“No, uh, you don’t need to do that,” Oyster squeaked.

 

“What? Don’t be stupid. Of course I do. It’s only fair.”

 

“No I mean—“ He fell back on the bed with a frustrated groan and a face that was quickly turning red. “You don’t need to because when I heard you moan—and your body all taut when you came—I kinda… You know?”

 

“Dude, you got off on me coming?”

 

“I know,” Oyster started. “Its lame. I’m sorr—“ His apology was cut off by Max giving him a deep kiss.

 

“That is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s okay. I have some underwear that you can borrow too.” He gave him a slight slap on the ass. "Better be wearing them the next time I see you." He bit Oyster's bottom lip playfully.

 

The rest of the night consisted of video games, jokes, and the kind of conversations that only two best friends could have. And if Oyster ended up under Max’s arm when they went to sleep, well, nobody mentioned it.

 

**The Next Day School Day…**

 

Max found his way to his locker as per usual. Things were really going well for him. His sister was more tolerable than usual, his friendship with Oyster was as solid as ever, and his little brother was no longer getting picked on as far as he could see. That was when he found the little piece of paper that flittered to the floor when he opened his locker. He bent to pick it up. It read:

 

**I know something about you and now you get to know something about me: I don’t forgive easily. And you have a lot to make up for. See you soon Maxie.**

 

What the fuck did that mean? Forgive what easily? Max just rolled his eyes, walked over to a trash can and tossed it in. So someone had a problem with him, that wasn’t anything new. There were tons of people who had problems with him. He was Max Thunderman. He didn’t exactly win any nice guy awards. He made his way back to his locker determined to think no more of it. Until he saw another one taped to the open door of his locker.

 

He quickly looked around the crowded hallways. That hadn’t been there a moment ago, had it? Fuck! There were too many people. There was no way he’d be able to tell who it was. No one looked suspicious. Then again, it’s hard to look suspicious when the normal is chaos.  He slowly peeled the tape off and took the note into his hands. He wasn’t afraid to read it. Why should he be? It was just some fuck twat looking for his attention. So why give it to them? He should just throw it in the trash too. And yet… He slowly unfolded it and took in the clear threat:

**I have eyes everywhere, keep throwing my letters away and I’ll make sure you have none left.**

 

A little drawing of two eyeballs detached form a head was in the corner. Max instantly paled. Who wrote him this note? How had he not seen them? He was only gone for a minute. It wasn’t possible. He shoved the note into his locker. And started to busy himself with his hands. It’s not as if he was really looking for anything but he needed to do something before he freaked out. Was this a panic attack? Was he—

 

A hand touched his shoulder, “Don’t touch me!” He shoved the person away. He looked down and noticed he had pushed Phoebe to the ground. “God dammit! I’m sorry.” He quickly offered her a hand.

 

“Well, hello to you too. Fuck,” she said rubbing her ass. She took his hand and stood. “A little jumpy?”

 

“Yeah. I, uh. Its nothing. I gotta get to class.”

 

“You sure you’re okay?” She asked.

 

“Yeah. Why?”

 

“Because you just said you had to get to class, as if you actually care if you go.”

 

“Listen, I’m fine. Me and Oyster watched a scary movie last night.” Lies. “That’s all.”

 

“I don’t know why you would. You know they freak us out.”

 

“Ew,” Max said. “You said it as if we’re the same person. Like we’re one of those inseparable twin sets that act as if there still in embryo together.”

 

“Ugh.” She made a face. “You’re kinda right. You going to class and us agreeing, I’d say the end must be very seriously nigh.” She gave him a smirk and twirled around, heading towards class.

 

Max slumped against his locker. He needed to talk to someone.

 

**Oyster**

Oyster had noticed Max’s strangeness all day. He was barely there at all. Whenever Oyster mad a joke Max would laugh but it sounded so hollow. Compared to how it usually was Max was acting as if Oyster had stabbed him. The weirdest part came when school ended and he asked Max if he could come over. Without even hesitating Max had said no. Oyster had tried again, but Max’s answer stayed the same and his tone had only gone sharper. Was he weirded out by the fact that they had been taking things further physically? Was he starting to feel uncomfortable with him? It was driving Oyster crazy. Oyster wasn’t unpopular by any means, but Max was pretty much all he had as far as people he hung out with consistently. He kept him away from his home and aunt which he was grateful for. He didn’t like home much. Home was where he was reminded that he didn’t have any parents and when he thought of that he thought of other things. Bad things.

 

He made his unfortunate trip home as he had no choice. Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you look at it, his aunt wasn’t home. He dumped the contents of his backpack on his bed, noticing a little piece of paper under the mess. He took it and unfolded it:

 

**I know how you feel. It’s not nice to be ignored. However, it’s not all that surprising that Max would dump you. After all, Max isn’t who you think he is. Look on the bright side though, when things are down there’s always “bottoms up”.**

 

Oyster’s eyes went wide. What. The. Fuck. Who knew about his drinking problem? Not even Max knew about that. He had been clean for months, almost a year now. It had started when his parents died. It was ironic really. The son of two parents who were killed by a drunk driver copes by becoming a drunk himself.

 

That was why he couldn’t stand to be around his aunt. She was always so fucking prim and proper. She was disgusted by those who indulged. She took Oyster in after they died. She always seemed to be trying to change him into a stand up citizen. A sheep in the never ending flock of Hiddenville. But he didn’t want that. At the time he wanted to forget about his parents. In his brain, it had been horrifyingly hilarious that drinking made him feel better. The sweet taste of freedom that rid his brain of all the depressing thoughts pushing in on him.

 

It was never the same after she found out he drank. She got him into a program and watched him like a hawk. She was better about it now, but she still gave him looks. Horrid looks that were like a knife to the heart. Looks that said, “You’re one of them. You’ll always be. Just like the person who killed my sister, your parents. A lousy good for nothing drunk!” Maybe that’s why her attempts to tame him had only increased over time.

 

He was thinking too much again. His head hurt and his mouth was oh so fucking dry. He tore into his closet and found the locked box under the broken floorboard. He tried to keep his hand steady as he forced the key into the lock and took out its contents. Inside lay a bottle a vodka. He had kept it as a little reminder to himself. A reminder that he could stay sober, even with his demons hiding right under the floor boards.

 

Right now, staring at the bottle, he wasn’t so sure anymore. The letter, the stuff with Max, and thinking about his parents. He needed to open to the bottle. “No,” he told himself, “you _want_ to open the bottle. There’s a difference.” He closed his eyes. “I’m at home. In my bedroom. I hear the subtle sound of my heater buzzing in the corner. The carpet under my feet is soft.” His hands tightened around the bottle. “I hear birds and traffic outside. I am here and I don’t need to drink!” He slowly set the bottle in the box and closed it, shoving it into the floorboards once again.

 

It seemed to taunt him, creepily whispering up through the floor boards, “I may be gone but you’ll see me again soon. Remember: when things are down there’s always ‘bottoms up’”. That phrase, the phrase in the letter. It sounded so god damned familiar, but why? He couldn’t think. He curled up in his bed and let the zipping of traffic lull him to sleep.

 

**Max**

 

Max hadn’t meant to be so cross with Oyster, but he was just so on edge and he needed to talk to someone about it. As much as he hated to admit it, the best choice had seemed to be his parents. So he drug himself across the floor and into the kitchen/dining room and sat at the table. His mom was in the kitchen making dinner and his dad sat across from him reading a newspaper.

 

He sat there for quite a while just taking in oxygen and breathing out carbon dioxide. There really was no proper way to start a dialogue with them which is why Max rarely did. He did the best he could come up with which was a slight cough to get their attention.

 

His dad lowered his paper and said, “Yes?”

 

‘I need to talk to you guys about something.” He lowered his eyes to the table. Did he really want to talk to them about this?

 

“Oh Jesus! Max, what did you do?”

 

“What did I do? Why do you assume I’ve done something?”

 

“Because you’re Max and I’m familiar with your work.”

 

“Hank!” Barb said, coming over and laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “Shut up. Just because Max hardly ever comes to us with anything unless it’s serious doesn’t mean that it’s something serious this time.” She looked over at Max and smiled. “No, but seriously Max what did you do?”

 

Max looked up from the table and felt himself shake a little. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea? “You know what? It’s nothing. I just needed money for something. But, you know, I’ll figure it out myself.” He got up from the table and started to head for his room.

 

“Ah, been taking notes from Phoebe, huh?”

 

Max flinched at the remark. “Yes, Hank. That’s _exactly_ what I’ve been doing!” He slammed his door shut and fell on his bed. Fuck them! He didn’t need them. He had plenty of people he could call. Oyster for one. Although he had been rude to him and told him he couldn’t come over today. Hm. Maybe he could just get a rabbit that he could talk to. What was his life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading. Please kudos, subscribe, and what not. Never be afraid to comment and say something. I love feedback. Even if its to tell me I suck at writing sex scenes. I'll still love to hear it haha :P Till next chapter then, eh?


	5. We All have Our Demons, Yours Just Seem More Demonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Oyster talk some shit out.  
> Max has a problem, well, more than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry for the delay as always. But I will continue this, I promise. The chapter is really long. ten pages worth on word. So maybe that makes up for it? Secondly, thank you all for your support and comments. I love to know that people from many different places are reading this. Brazil and Mexico. Its crazy and exhilarating to know that my writing is reaching that far! Mwah! You all are amazing people.

**Max**

“Someone has a flare for the dramatic, eh?” Max shot up like a light and looked at his forgotten chair that sat in the corner. The chair was kind of an ongoing joke between him and oyster. His mom had given it to him because apparently he needed to have some more sitting room for his friends. Max and Oyster often referred to the chair as a person all on its own (they named it Spot due to the hideous neon green polka dots all over it)  as no one ever sat in it. Why would they? The only friend Max allowed into his room frequently was Oyster and Oyster definitely always had a spot on Max’s bed reserved.

That had obviously changed as Tara Campbell sat perched right on Spot. “Tara? What are you doing here?”

“Am I not welcome?” Max really couldn’t understand why Tara would sneak into his bedroom nor could he get any read on her emotions. Her eyes seemed too cloudy with mischief to hold anything else. “That’s never seemed the case before.” Her lips formed a pout that must’ve taken years to perfect.

“No, no! You’re always welcome. It’s just you never broke into my bedroom before.”

“Rumor has it you’ve been a naughty boy. Planting drugs into a boy’s locker. I mean, there were already drugs there to begin with but I guess it’s the thought that counts, right?” She hopped off the chair and sauntered over to him as a cat stalks a mouse.

“Wait, how the fuck do you know that?”

“I heard it somewhere.”

“You heard it some—Have you been leaving me notes?”

“What notes?” She asked, eyeing him with a weird expression. “You want notes? Love letters maybe?” She asked.

“Is that what they were? Because I’m not into eye gauging!” He set her with a hard glare. What was she playing at?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Max. I came here to fuck. Plain and simple. I don’t do notes nor do I do bull shit.” So she wasn’t the one who’d been leaving him notes? She was here because she’d heard he’d planted drugs in that kid’s locker and apparently that was like an aphrodisiac or something? “So do you want to fuck me?” What could he say? He had never turned her down before. “Or maybe I could fuck you? I’m not too picky.” She didn’t really wait for an answer. She just strode up to him and pushed her mouth to his. It wasn’t quite like it used to be. Her lips weren’t as soft as they looked. They were kind of slick and she obviously put way too much lipstick on and—Wait!

“Tara,” he said, trying to push her off of him.

“Busy.” Inside his mind he let out an agitated sigh. It figures his one catch phrase would be used against him and—Hey! Was that her hand on his dick? Yes it was. “And it feels like you are too? Or at least he is.”

“Tara!” He said with more force. Her eyes, previously misty, were now giving him an icy glare.

“What?” She snickered.

“Who told you that I planted drugs in some kid’s locker?”

“I don’t know! It was at a party. I was fucking higher than a kite.” Great, A party. Now he just needed to know whose.

“Okay, whose party was it?” He asked.

“Why do you care? I’m touching your dick and you’re worried about who I got high with last night. What the fuck, Max!”

“Tara, tell me!”

She scoffed, “Cole’s. It was Cole’s party! Can we get back to things that are actually important now?” She kissed his neck.

It was Cole’s party? That made sense. Cole hated Max and had more than enough reason to want to fuck him over. Somehow he had figured out that he had planted drugs in Devin’s locker and was trying to anonymously blackmail him. Fuck that! He was dead. More than dead. He thought he could threaten him? Max Thunderman? Who the hell did he think he was? If he thought the punch he got from Oyster hurt…

Max hated not being in control. Being in control was the only thing Max really had. He may not know what he and Oyster had together, but he was in control of it. His parents may try to get under his skin but he did his best not to let them know he cared. That would probably explain why he was so mad for going to them for help earlier, why he was so mad for storming away like a pussy. It left a chink open in his armor that he was not willing to reveal again. Fuck them! With Tara it seemed he was never actually in control but always battling for it. She liked to push his buttons and he maybe didn’t always enjoy it.

“Max!” He was brought back to reality by Tara’s shrill voice. Her voice wasn’t nearly as provocative as he had originally thought. “What’s up with you? You’ve been practically drooling over me since we first met and for some reason you seem more interested in anything that isn’t me!” He stared at her, trying to calculate where she was going with this. “Then again, I heard that you might be into something else. Maybe that’s the problem.” She popped her p’s. It was kinda annoying. How had he not noticed that before?

“What are you talking about?”

Max could feel his control slipping. She seemed to be taking a little more of his power for every minute she was in the room. “Maybe I should get a strap on,” she chuckled. “Would that suit you better?”

“Where did you hear-“ He started. She smiled at him, a lioness about to capture her prey.

She gasped as his hand circled around her wrist. He quickly swung her towards the bed and her eyes took on a very feline composure. Max shredded his shirt in one quick motion and climbed on top of her. He slid his hand under her skirt she was wearing and teased her a bit. Leaning close to her ear he whispered, “What was that about needing to be fucked?”

“I don’t believe that word was ever uttered from my lips,” she moaned as he kissed her neck.

“It will be. Trust me.” Cole could wait. First things first, he needed his power back.

**Oyster**

“Oyster? Oyster?” He squirmed in his sweat soaked bed, refusing to believe that the voice calling to him actually had any importance. “Wake up!” He felt a smack upside the head. Who the fuck? He felt his eyelids lift to discover his aunt looming over him. “Ungrateful! Here I let you live in my house free of charge—even after what you’ve done—and you still disobey me. I told you I didn’t want you hanging out with that hoodlum.”

Hoodlum? Who was she even talking about? Didn’t she know that when the sun wasn’t even fully up in the sky that talking was a no-no? An image of Max attached itself to the tiniest part of his conscious brain and he sat straight up.  “Max is here?” The clock to his right said it was a little past 6 in the morning. His heart was doing a little happy dance.

“Try not to look so smug.” She began to exit the room. “I told him to wait outside.” Of course she did, he thought with a roll of his eyes. “I want him off my property within the next thirty minutes. No more, no less.” There was another game that Oyster liked to play besides Scared or Turned On. It was, At What Point in My Aunt’s Life Did She Become Such A Bitch? That title was definitely a work in progress, but the game was decent enough and he had still yet to win.

He got up, not bothering to get dressed or put shoes on and went out the door to see Max. He was looking as ridiculous as ever, wearing a white tank and a light weight leather jacket. His pants were a deep red. Oyster slid his hand up to his neck. He felt awkward. For the first time in a long time he felt awkward around Max. “So, um. Hi?”

Max looked at him with a deepness that Oyster couldn’t identify. Max went up to Oyster and enveloped him in a tight hug. Oyster was honestly surprised. This was so different from the Max he encountered earlier yesterday. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his neck. Oyster settled into the hug for a moment before bristling. He immediately backed up and gave Max a huge punch in the arm. “Ow! What the fuck, Oyster! That’s my arm, you know, a thing that’s attached to me that has nerve endings? At least it used to.” He rubbed his arm grumpily. Oyster just snickered, knowing that Max was playing it up.

“That’s for yesterday, Jackass!” He scolded.

“I apologized!”

“Yeah? Well I wasn’t satisfied obviously! I really needed you yesterday and you weren’t there.” He pulled Max into another hug. He supposed he was maybe giving his friend emotional whiplash. He then decided, so the fuck what?

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was just kinda off. Okay, I was completely off. I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. Why? What happened yesterday?”

Oyster considered telling him the tale of the mysterious letter, but then he would also have to tell him about the drinking and he wasn’t about to do that. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Max, but telling people about his previous drinking habits always seemed so problematic. Peoples’ eyes would glaze over and when they resumed their normal appearance they stared at him differently. Their body reacted to him in the same way as well as their words, but the eyes always acted as a different entity all together, judging him.

“Never mind. I’m over it.”

“Oyster, I can read you like a book. You are most certainly not fine. You’re my best friend.” He pulled back and held onto one of Oyster’s hands. “But I also know you well enough to know that if you don’t want to tell me you won’t. So that just leaves me with one question: What can I, your best friend who has behaved so ashamedly—“

“Cut the shit,” Oyster chuckled pushing Max away.

Max only continued as if he had not been interrupted, “Do to make feel better? No, fuck better. How about top of the world?”

“Top of the world, eh?” Oyster chortled. ‘

“No, that’s still not good enough for my best friend!” He spoke as if he were a knight there to rescue a fair maiden. Oyster was _not_ a fair maiden.

“Seriously, Max!” He laughed. “I’m fine. You’re such a dick!” But there was no longer any heat to his words.

“Ah! But I have already said that ‘fine’ isn’t good enough, you see? And Maximus Octavious Thunderman always delivers. Now what can I, as your humblest of friends, do to make you feel like a king for a day?” Although he knew Max was being sarcastic, he also knew he was being serious. He did want to do something for Oyster.

He finally succumbed to the situation at hand. If it was there than he was definitely gonna take advantage. “Anything?”

“Anything, my lord.”

Oyster pondered and let out an over the top, “Hmmm.” An idea popped in his head. “Fine. I want your leather jacket for the day.”

“Really” Max said, breaking out of character. “That’s all.” He smiled and shrugged off the jacket.

“Yeah.” Really it was the perfect pick me up. He got to wear a jacket that smelled like Max all day and get to see Max’s exposed arms.

“Then it is your, my lord. Done and done.”

Oyster just rolled his eyes and slipped it on. It was snug and he felt safe in it. It was a weird but welcome feeling. “Well, as fun as this is we do have to get to school. And my aunt said she wanted you gone in thirty minutes are less so there is that. Can I get a ride?”

“Yeah, but Oyster?”

“Uh-huh?”

“You might want to go and take a shower first. I dig the whole in nothing but boxers and t-shirt with sex hair but others may not. Also, you might catch a disease from the school hallways without shoes.” Max took out a cigarette and lit it up. “I’ll wait for you out in the car.”

“Too bad we aren’t at your house.”

“Why?”

“Because then you could join me,” Oyster said with a smirk.

Max dropped his cigarette and had to stumble to catch it, burning himself on the tip a bit. “Ah. Fuck!”

“Yeah that would’ve been the idea,” Oyster called over his shoulder. It was so rare that he was the one to catch Max off balance. He rather enjoyed that.

**Max**

Max sucked on his thumb until the pain of the burn subsided. Fucking Oyster and his god damn shower fantasy proposition that couldn’t be followed through. Now Max was alone in his car with a hard on that wasn’t going away. He thought back to his night with Tara and scoffed. She had hardly made him as hard as Oyster could. He hadn’t even really wanted to have sex with her. It was just what she had been implicating. Whoa—Wait! He hadn’t wanted to have sex with her. That was weird fucking thought. But he wanted to fuck Oyster. Yes, yes he did. So veryveryvery **very** badly. He took a particularly hard drag on his cigarette to burn the thought out of his mind. That what Tara had been implying might, in some small way, be truth.

That was the least of his problems anyhow. What concerned him first was apologizing to Oyster, but now he had to deal with Cole. That was now priority number one. The little shit thought he could get away with blackmailing him? He laughed out loud at the mere thought of Cole being able to do anything to him.

He saw Oyster coming down the stairs and heading towards Max’s piece of shit car that he had bought for practically nothing. It was on its last legs but luckily he never drove it more than 10 miles at a time. Most days he left it at home but today he hadn’t felt like walking. Oyster looked great just out of the shower. He had obviously rushed because his hair was all spikey and wet. He bit his bottom lip, thinking about running his hands through it.

Oyster got in with ease, still wearing Max’s jacket. Max wondered why that was what Oyster had chosen. Did it really make him that happy to wear it? He did seem more chipper. Hell if that was all it took to keep Oyster happy, he could wear any of his clothes. He looked fucking good in them. Max couldn’t place it but it felt so erotic, Oyster wearing his clothes. He wiggled in his seat, trying to situate his erection in a way that didn’t make it completely obvious.

“I gotta make a quick stop before we go to school.”

“Where?”

“Cole’s house.”

“What? Why?” Oyster looked completely dumb founded. Max couldn’t really blame him. Who the fuck would want to go to Cole’s house? They guy was a tool.

“Because he had a party and didn’t invite us. Don’t you think that’s rather rude?” Max spoke as if he was truly offended that they weren’t invited. Even though both he and Oyster knew he could care fuck all about anything to do with Cole, even a party.

“Max.” He recognized Oyster’s warning tone. He got it whenever he thought Max was about to do something stupid.

“Don’t worry mon ami. It’s a diplomatic mission.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just like Princess Leigh was on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan.”

“Nice,” Max said, raising his hand for a high five. He saw Oyster roll his eyes but complied. After all, they were bros and bros high fived at Star Wars references.

They pulled up to Cole’s house and he put his car in park. He wasn’t sure yet what he planned to do. Kick the crap out of him? Just talk to him? He knew which one he wanted to do, but his inner Oyster voice was saying that talking to him was the more acceptable option. He then took the time to remind his inner Oyster that he had punched Cole so he could stop being a hypocrite anytime. Inner Oyster just gave him a bitch glare. He sighed. Talking it was.

He started to open his door when he saw Oyster unbuckling, ready to follow. He pushed him back to the seat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Uh, going with you,” he spoke in a way that said, ‘duh.’

“Why?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Max made another sigh and looked into Oyster’s eyes with a gentle expression. “I promise. I won’t hit him…” He then added, “Unless he reaches maximum douche bag territory. Please? This is just something I have to do on my own.”

He saw Oyster starting to give in but he still looked apprehensive. “I’m still not sure why we’re even here.”

“Oyster, please?” He asked again, just as patient.

“Fine. Go ahead and do your mysterious meeting. I’ll just sit here waiting.”

“Great!” He said as he flashed one of his wining smiles. He obviously couldn’t tell Oyster why he wanted him to stay in the car nor could he explain why he hadn’t told Oyster about the letters he had been receiving. They had just always seemed so cryptic and private in a way. Plus, there was no reason to get him all worked up. He had this on lock. Scare Cole with a few words and everything was back to being peachy fucking keen.

He opened the door with confidence and hopped out, making his way to Cole’s fancy, three story house. Of course the fucker lived in style. He knew Cole’s mother was the principal of their school and his father was some rich investment banker or something just as snooty sounding.  He then spied his fancy, red Saab convertible. Apparently fancy fuckers needed fancy foreign cars. Max supposed Cole having money was one of the reasons that it had been so difficult to see Oyster go out with him. Because Cole had money and he didn’t. Cole could buy Oyster frivolously awesome things that Max could never hope to afford in a thousand years. He would never admit it but it definitely hurt.

He knocked on the white, wooden door and waited. Max wasn’t surprise to see the shocked look on Cole’s face when he answered.

“Max,” he said. “What a pleasant surprise.” Max tilted his head. Why the hell was he so chipper to see him? Then he noticed his stare was directed at Oyster in his car.

“Don’t get too happy. I’m here to talk to you, only me. I’m not letting you anywhere near Oyster. Don’t forget,” Max said with a smug look, “he socked you in the face the last time you to had a heart to heart.” He took great satisfaction in the sour look he evoked from Cole’s face.

“A momentary lapse in his judgement. He’ll change his mind when he realizes what you are.” Max felt himself reflexively clutching his hands into fists at his side. He needed to play it cool. He still had most of the power here. What did Cole really even have on him at all? “What do you want?”

“Let’s see. What do I want? I want to go to school without being threatened to have my eyes ripped out.” Cole tilted his head in confusion.

“Say what?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know how easy it is for you to fall right into that role so I’ll let it go once. Just admit what you’re doing and we can all get on with our lives!”

“I seriously have no clue to what you’re referring to, but I can hardly bring myself to care. But if someone is going to rip your eyes out… send me a text. I’d like to watch,” he snickered.

“Strike two, dick nose. Do you really want to strike out here? What is that’s got you so pissed? You’re upset I ruined your little _date?_ What’s your plan anyway? Tell everyone that Oyster and I are fooling around? Who’d believe it? No one.”

“That’s what this is about? You think I plan to tell everyone about what I know about you two? Because of one little sucker punch and a lousy date.” Cole snorted and laughed in derision.

“That and the fucking letters.”

“Please! If I really wanted to out you, I would do it. I wouldn’t need to rely on little anonymous notes. I honestly have no problem outing you, but that would also out Oyster. So no, I wasn’t planning on doing that. You’re right though, I do have a problem with you. The only thing is, I’m not the only one. You’ve made a lot of enemies, Max. I am intrigued though. If someone is sending you creepy letters that promise body part removal, how do you plan to find them? Eeny meeny miny moe it till you get it right?” Cole started laughing again and Max could literally hear his blood pounding. His ears seemed to be roaring, a ring so high pitched he could practically feel his head ripping in two pieces.

In his head he kept repeating a mantra, “You are not losing power. You are in control of the situation. The situation is not in control of you. You are not losing power…”

“The sad part about this whole thing is that you can’t even admit it to anyone or even yourself most likely. If you ask me that’s what truly makes you a pathetic little faggot!” Max felt his fist connecting with Cole’s face. He couldn’t even tell if it was truly his own agency that made him do it. He didn’t feel like it was. His body was just moving and he was powerless to stop it. When Cole fell he let his foot swing into his guy. Cole coughed, “Fucker.”  

Max heard a voice. Was it his own? It didn’t sound like him, but it had to be. No one else was there. “You do not control me! I control me! You don’t know what or who I am!” He indicated each word with a kick to the gut,” Just! Shut! The fuck! Up!” He flipped Cole over and climbed on top of him, throwing another punch. Then he felt arms wrap around his waist, pulling him backwards. He was about to fight back when he realized it was Oyster.

**Oyster**

Oyster watched Max walk up and knock on the door. Cole answered not thirty seconds later. There was a strange sense of déjà vu that seemed to be encasing his body. Something was nagging him at the back of his mind. What was it? A string of words tugging at his brain and he couldn’t remember. “Shit!”

_“But let me tell you something about Max Thunderman. He’s not who you think he is. I dated his sister and if there’s one thing you can count on its not being able to count on him! He will always let you down! Always! He’s a selfish little prick who only has one person on his mind, himself!”_

_“ **However, it’s not all that surprising that Max would dump you. After all, Max isn’t who you think he is. Look on the bright side though, when things are down there’s always “bottoms up”.**_

“Fucking shit!” He slammed his fist down on the dash, the words echoing in his mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He looked back towards the two talking figures and saw Max shaking. What were they talking about? Should he get out and confront him? No that would be crazy. He wasn’t even sure if Cole was the one who sent him the note. Shit! Did Max just punch him (more turned on than scared). “Fucking Max!”

He tore at the handle to open the door and jumped out. He heard Max screaming but couldn’t really make anything out. He saw that Max was kicking him now. He could practically feel the pain with each swift kick he delivered (more scared than turned on). He was climbing on top of Cole throwing his fist at his face in a frenzy that didn’t even seem human. He wrapped his hands around Max’s waist and pulled at the resistance Max was giving. He heard Max screaming now, “No, I need to. I’m in control! He doesn’t own me! Please, no!”

“Max,” Oyster tried as he wiggled in his grasp. “Max!” Max seemed to go completely still.

“I—“

Cole got to his knees and was practically seething, “Get him off my property! Now! Before I call the fucking cops. I swear to god I will.”

“Okay. Okay, we’re going.” He didn’t doubt Cole for a second. He pulled Max to his feet and started to walk away but spared one last glance. “Cole?”

“What?” His voice held a wretched anger and something else… fear? Despite the severe kicks and the punches he looked pretty good. No blood at least, except a split lip. Although he figured he’d have a black eye and a couple of bruises on his ribs.

“We need to talk. Soon.” There was no verbal response, just a terse nod in agreement from Cole.

They both made their way back to the car. Max was settled in the passenger seat. He protested at first but Oyster pleaded that he let him drive. The drive itself was rather silent. There was no bickering or playful teasing. The warmth that had premeated the air earlier was gone. It was driving Oyster insane. What the hell had happened back there? He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to say something or he’d explode.

“Max? What was that back there? What happened?”

“I—I don’t know. I was talking. I seriously wasn’t even thinking about hitting him and then…I was…I—I’m sorry.” Oyster could feel the shame radiating from Max’s body. Did he scare him a little, yes. That had already been established, but so had his love for this boy. He was pretty much certain there was nothing Max could do to change that. Still though…that anger he had seen. There was nothing like it. It hadn’t sounded nor looked like Max. Not even the dark side of Max that Oyster had seen many times. No, this was something different. Should he tell someone? Max’s parents? No. Max wouldn’t respond kindly to that. Shit. “Oyster?” He looked over at Max. “You’re not scared of me are you?”

“I—I. Hmm.” That was sort of an answer he supposed.

“Can’t really blame you if you are. Cause I’m kind of scared of myself to. That’s not the first time something like that has happened either. Back at my old school I—“ He didn’t continue to reveal the rest of the story and Oyster really didn’t know what to say. “I just—I don’t know. I sometimes just lose myself. But please, please don’t be scared of me. I can’t—“ Oyster heard Max’s voice break and something inside his own self broke. At the same time, something else clicked. Anger was to Max what alcohol was to Oyster. Oyster couldn’t even count all the times he had somehow ended up with liquor pouring down his throat. It seemed Max was the same way with anger. They both had their own taste of nasty side effects. They also both required their own brand of help.

“I’m not terrified,” he tried, determined not to lie. “But what I saw today did scare me a little. Max, I think you need help.”

“You think I need—Is something wrong with me?” There wasn’t anger in his voice. There was just the voice of a small child that had been hurt emotionally. A child that was confused at what was going on. “But where would I even—I don’t have any money. The money I do have has to go to bills. I can’t—“ His voice sounded tired. It sounded like he hadn’t slept in weeks, a stark contrast to what he had been like an hour previous.

“There’s always the guidance consoler. That’s what they’re there for.”

Oyster felt Max falling into his shoulder. He quickly wrapped a supportive arm around him. “It’s okay Max. You’ll be okay. I promise.”  
  
That’s how he drove. In silence. One arm around Max and the other on the steering wheel.

* * *

**[A note from Anonymous for the clueless] So what do you think is wrong with Max? He seems a bit off kilter wouldn't you say? Oh no! Another problem on a never ending list. Poor Maxie could really use someone to lean on. Wait, he does have someone. Oyster, right? Well, maybe I should take him away. Might be hard, but I love a challenge.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N] I've decided to add these little notes from anonymous at the end of each chapter. They are not canon with the story at all. No characters from the story know about these notes nor did the person sending anonymous notes actually write them within this world I've created. They're just like little teases of what's to come in the next chapters in their voice. As always review please. I love talking to you! Have a lovely day readers.
> 
> So what do you guys think is wrong with Max. Pretty scary stuff, huh? As always, comment and subscribe (or don't). I always appreciate it when I get to interact with ya :)


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